Friday, November 18, 2011

The Shias Of Mumbai

They cut their heads
they scourge their backs
they walk on fire
the rest of the world
Says Why?
through their tears
through their blood
live like Ali
Like Hussain learn to die
saving Islam from
was the Imams reply
to underplay
his martyrdom
for 1400 years
they tried
they lied
but Allah
His Holy Messenger
always on Hussains side
we bleed for his loss
as much from inside

he gave his head but not his hand
a true soldier of god he died
Hussain the Saviour of Mankind
the beacon of Truth
the upholder
of our Shia pride
Hussain is Humanity
a message held worldwide
our hope our future
truly our Spiritual Guide

This poem is dedicated to Mrs L..Nassar mother of Habib and Baqar Nassar and my mother by default

She Desperately Waits For Change She Has Been Carrying the Basket Since Birth

Jesus is Part of My Camera Vision

more than his godliness
his humility spreading
peace was his only mission
in his world everyone
has a right of admission

Somebody Remembers Jesus

he comes here
in the wee hours
of the morning garlands
him with flowers talks to him
to ease his pain spends
hours and hours
the lord hears him out
blessings he showers
as the lord tells
the father the holy ghost
he is penitent he is ours
we gave him a place
on earth but he lives
in an ivory tower
his world has gone
bitter sour
deaf mute dour

The Drunk on the Mound

one more
bites the dust
hits the ground
the bottle
hit him on
the rebound
he slipped
got drowned
his body
living dying
on this mound
they found
paper thin
but hard bound
painted clown

The Drunk on the Mound

on his grave
buried above
the ground
deathly silence
no sound
life beyond
a Google+ circle
static but going
round and round

The Bhaiyyas Beg To Differ

since the time
after independence
his state neglected
he was treated
like a jerk
on his dead corpse
will rise some more parks
some more statues
the common man sulks
madam a new bag in hand
gives a nonchalant smirk
dividing UP
in four parts how
political gambits
political aspirations
political perseverance
on the soul of humanity
seamlessly work
creative network
the flesh was willing
the mind berserk
duties the quintessential
bhaiyya in Mumbai
wont he
does not need to beg
firmly solidly safe
within the Marathi
madams statue
waiting restlessly
to stand besides
careening kareena
at Tussaud waxworks
quixotic quirks

The Bhaiyya will do any menial job but hardly begs I have seen an old Bhaiyya patiwala working and crying and begging too in desperation as his luck was bad that Crawford Market.. he inspired this poem..

Kim Jansen Is Doing My Interview As The Barefeet Blogger of Mumbai

Barish Ki Bauchar Aur Bajre Ki Roti

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The rains and the delightful fun of having millet flour flat bread.

Colloquially called bajre ki roti..and this was being prepared on the safe corner away from the rains on the streets.

When I began taking the pictures the lady who was drenched and making this asked to take the roti and have it at home.

I bought it home applied pure ghee and had it with achar, pickle it is a very tasty mango pickle home made bought by mother in law from Lucknow.

This stove is a make shift one made with bricks and useless wood is used for the fire.

Most of the food is cooked on this though the family has a gas stove too in the house.

And I dedicate this to my good Facebook friend Sudershan Pandey.. who always inundates me with comments and appreciates all of Marziya s pictures.

3 Street Photographers of Bandra

Both my grand daughters Marziya Shakir and Nerjis Asif Shakir arrived from Lucknow after a long holiday at their maternal grand parents house.

Nerjis Asif Shakir turns 4 month today and Marziya Shakir  will turn 4 year old on 24 November..

They both are excited seeing the new member of our family Zaira Saif Shakir aka Princess Fatima Zaira.

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